


Power and Control [DISCONTINUED]

by DukeAsterWilliams



Category: RWBY
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24551443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DukeAsterWilliams/pseuds/DukeAsterWilliams
Summary: Adam Taurus, leader of the White Fang, had never dreamed he would be in this situation. He and his men had taken a Schnee as hostage, and as such should be celebrating. His men were ecstatic, drinking to their heart's content as they had leverage over the Schnee Company. They were going to be able to mold their enemy like putty. However, that was the brighter side of the situation. The Schnee Company was not easily influenced, and Adam knew uncomfortably well. He had to be careful when planning his next steps. He needed to maintain control. He is in control. He HAD to be in control. Or else, it was all for nothing.A sequence of events rather than a fully fleshed out story.--Will contain dark, sexual, and mature topics. Tags will be updated as story progresses.--DISCONTINUED
Relationships: Weiss Schnee & Adam Taurus
Kudos: 12





	1. the Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Dark, sexual, and mature themes. This may include, but not limited to: sexual situations, sensitive topics, racism, slavery, dehumanization, underaged sex, character death, rape, etc. This will not be a safe place.
> 
> Tags will be updated as the story progresses. No Beta. No set schedule. 
> 
> Have not watched majority of RWBY, all information gathered is from the wikia. Characters may seem OOC due to this reason. Apologies in advance.  
> \------------------  
> Edit 2020.06.05 - Minor grammatical corrections.

There are many words that could describe Adam's predicament. Many of his subordinates would describe it as a step towards the right direction. Others would describe it as an opportunity to gain some control over the Schnee company, the driving force of discrimination against the faunus. However, Adam would sum up his situation in one word: bittersweet.

Down the hall, chained up and collared to the wall was a cold-blooded heathen. It was a hostage, caught by his men, that could be used a leverage towards his ultimate goal: equality for the faunus. Adam knew plenty of his men wanted access to it. Be it to beat the sack of meat to death or to rape a ripe piece of fruit, or even both, each had their own means of satisfaction. However, Adam knew that letting his men loose was not the smartest move, especially when they needed it **alive**.

A part of him wanted to agree with them, the bull faunus was not opposed to merely killing it - after all, that was what he usually did to any poor excuse for a hunk of meat. His reputation was to leave no survivors, be it hired assassins to take him out or innocent bystanders that got caught in the crossfire. Adam was savage, ruthless, merciless. And keeping it alive was damaging his reputation. His only saving grace were the smarter ones of the group, who knew the value of keeping the disgusting thing alive.

The bull faunus gripped the edge of the table, leaving over it as he tried to stabilize himself. His masked eyes were concentrated on the wood surface below as he meditated over his next course of actions. His head was pounding over the high of the accomplishment his men had done. The opportunities that it was giving him was almost overwhelming, but he had to play his cards right. Adam could feel the sweat build up on the back of his neck, dripping down his spine as he dared to look up at himself in the mirror. But instead of his calm and collected demeanor, he was greeted with an image of a boy. A scared little bull faunus, wide eyed and shaking in his boots. And within a flash, a blink of an eye, that image was cracked and shattered. It was broken when his fist collided with the mirror. Shards dropped to the floor as he heard his men shuffle outside his door.

"SIR!" they cried out, "Are you ok? We're coming in!"

Adam bit his lip as he snapped back into reality. He had to maintain his image: the strong and ruthless leader of the White Fang. He was the faunus that took no hostages, who showed no mercy towards the disgusting humans who treated them like animals. He straightened his back and took a deep breath, he was scared to let out the fear of his emotions getting the best of him. Adam swallowed some saliva, exhaled slowly and relaxed. These were his men who would follow him to the ends of the earth. He must relax. Adam relax. Relax.

"I am fine, nothing more than restraining myself from damaging our card," Adam said nonchalantly. His gaze cast down at his fist where he noticed the skin was torn and blood was starting to surface. His men surrounded him, one of them went to fetch the first aid kit as Adam held his hand out so they could treat his injury. Like the villain in a movie, Adam stood proud as he let them wrap and dress the wound. He diverted to a different subject, "Status report on the Schnee Company."

"None reported yet, sir."

"Ah, and here I thought they'd be knocking at our doorstep right now," Adam mused, almost gloated as he looked at the time. It was dark, he doubted the Schnee Company would take any action tonight, given their past encounters. They were a slow-moving company, despite how efficient they'd like to project to the public. They were a cautious bunch, preferring to think and then act rather than making a wrong move. It was shown in their fighting styles, elegance, precision, and grace. Adam sighed as he took back his newly bandaged hand. "Stand guard as I check the state of the hostage."

And with that order, Adam started to make his way out of his room with his men trailing behind him. Their bargaining chip was being kept down the hall, chained and collared to the wall like an animal. It was an ice demon, a cold blooded and heartless monster that did not care for anything but its own selfish desires. So when Adam approached the door, he stood staring at the wood for a few moments. His hand reached for Wilt, his trusted chokutō, and used it to further calm himself. He tapped the handle of the blade once, ready to use it should the demon escape its chains. Adam took a deep breath. He was in control. He IS in control. He **HAD** to be in control.

With a turn of the knob, he entered the room alone. The door shut behind him as he felt the air grow cold and silent. On the opposite wall was where his men had chained it up. Although dark, he could see perfectly. Every nook and cranny of the room was kept in tip top shape, far too luxurious for a heathen, but that couldn't be helped. Besides, the monster was severely beaten, clothes torn in various placed, and hair matted from blood, sweat, and tears. What a pathetic state it was in, far from what was expected from a Schnee. However, Adam could feel the resemblance of evil within the spawn of the devil. But more importantly, it held the same piercing blue eyes.

And it made Adam's gut turn.

The hand on his chokutō tightened before he forced himself to relax. He let his hand drop as he regained control of himself and he sauntered over to the hostage, squatting down to be at eye level with it. However, he made sure he was out of harms way. The collar around its neck prevented it from activating its aura to a threatening level, but he _more than anyone_ knew not to underestimate brute strength. The Schnee were capable fighters regardless of aura, and Adam was not going to think it was some helpless animal. That would be an insult to faunus.

"What do you want," it asked in a low and groggy voice.

"It isn't about what I want," he answered, "it's about what is best for my people."

"Your people?" it croaked, "Is that your excuse for terrorism?"

"It's _exactly_ why we do what we do **Schnee** ," he hissed the cursed name.

But their conversation quickly fell into silence. The hostage was too exhausted for anything other than breathing and Adam wasn't one to gloat too much, he was only here to check up on the state of the beast. The small exchange of words was a fruitless argument. They were on opposite sides of a war. For years, the Schnee and White Fang had been at each other's throats, but never once did either of them hold such an important hostage. The White Fang was quick to execute anyone who aligned themselves with the Schnee company, and the same went for the Schnee family. They were both heartless, doing anything to win. And both knew that too well.

"If you wanted to kill me, you would have done so already. So, **what** do you want?" it repeated with a crack in its voice.

Adam clenched his fists, refusing to give into his inner desire to wring and snap its neck. It was taunting him to give into his selfish desire. He was urged to grind his foot into that fragile creature, to put it down like a savage animal. He wanted to induce fear, to make it fear him worse than a reoccurring nightmare. And he did give in a little, it had pushed just enough buttons that his hand reached out to grasp the messy ponytail and yanked it down. It screamed as in the sudden pain as he made the pathetic soul look up at him. He knew his eyes were glowing in the darkness and through the slits of his mask. He was worse than a ravage grim with glowing eyes. He was intelligent, one with tact and can appear more human that a wild rampaging soul.

He leaned forward. With their faces so close, he could hear the worn out voice cry so loudly against his ears. He could see every detail of its face twisting in pain. The contorted flesh was disgusting, the whiteness of its skin and mane were sickly pale and it made his hair stand on end. It truly was a horrific creature walking in human flesh. It was a thing that haunted him in his nightmares.

"I want to destroy every fiber of your body," he growled in a low voice.

He practically purred those words as he felt the urge to hurt it more. His satisfaction to break every Schnee to nothing but dust was starting to peak its head up as he wanted to damage their cards more. It took so much for him to refrain from clawing those disgusting eyes out, breaking those fragile ribs, or doing everything _they_ had done to him. His free hand rose, shaking as sucked air through is teeth. But as he forced himself to regain control, he breathed out and ran his knuckle against the exposed side of its neck. It was soft, sensitive and vulnerable. He knew he could feel the monsters pulse if he wanted, but instead he wouldn't dare let him make a mistake. He would _just_ induce fear, make it remember his voice and scent. He'll appear in its dreams.

He leaned down further, their bodies were pressed up almost against each other as he breathed right next to its ear. He wanted it to listen to his words loud and clear. Its hands were chained, he could tell with a quick glance it was shaking from the pain and weren't going to break out of them any time soon.

"My men want to devour you," he cooed, almost teasingly as his grip on its mane loosened. "They want to devour you like the animals you think we are. Sink their teeth into your flesh. Claim you, break you, use you as a pet. All like your kind do to our fellow faunus brother and sisters."

His hands threaded through that silky mane matted with sweat. The flesh was soft as he leaned back and pushed some stray locks behind its ears. In a single motion, he grazed his knuckles against the fragile jawline. It was in this moment he realized how tiny it was compared to him. His hand could easily break its jaw with a simple squeeze, or choke it with a single hand. He also realized how pink its face was, with skin so white such pigmentation were easily shown. What was more pathetic was the makeup it had dolled itself up with was not running down its face. A pathetic sight, yet it was so beautiful to see a Schnee ruined. Adam wanted to enjoy it, savor the moment as he saw the demon break down when nothing **bad** has even been done yet.

"Is that the answer you wanted to hear?"

"Monster," it whispered.

"Oh, but aren't we all dear," he cooed.

He was toying with it. How sadistic it was to go through this whole act, but as natural it came to him it was a new side to him that was more than just a killer. He was beginning to feed his inner sadist as he could only hope he could bring _every_ Schnee to its knees. But, his time was growing short. He had to prepare for the next day and he needed his rest. The next day was surely when the Schnee Company would want to speak with the White Fang, they would want to get their precious cargo back.

With a fluid motion, Adam stood up and brought his hand to Wilt, making sure that it was still in his possession, and it was. His heels gave a soft echo was he crossed the room and back to the door where he stoppedmomentarily.

"Tomorrow, we'll be negotiating with your father," Adam said as his hand grasped the doorknob. There was a rattle of the chains, he could feel those eyes on him. So, it still had some energy left. "Pray that he actually cares for his family and doesn't think of you as another disposable pawn."

And with that, he exited the room satisfied with his visit. His men departed as Adam returned to his bedroom and the door was shut once more. Crossing the room, he collapsed onto his bed and loosened his clothes to escape the heat. He was exhausted, the sweat dripping down his back was uncomfortable and he cursed silently to himself. He cursed his men for managing to capture a Schnee. If it were any other human, Adam would have executed them on the spot. He would have remained this ruthless leader that left no survivors. He avoided the Schnees for that exact reason. Both sides were pent up with anger, and if they were to cross paths surely a quick death was not on the table. He couldo only imagine what was in store for him once the Schnees had found out what he had done to their precious spawn.

But as he remembered the satisfaction of the ice demon's contorted face and the gasps of pain, he inhaled and closed his fist. He could still feel the silky strands of its hair between his fingers. He could feel how soft they were despite the matted mess of sweat it held, how it could wrap around his hand like a rope. Adam could smell the soft perfume, high quality, and so subtle that even his nose didn't detect it until he was pressed up against its ear. And the feeling of cold breath against his neck, the pace it breathed, how it quickened and broke from sobbing, it sent shivers down his spine and right to his groin.

Adam frowned as he realized the affect the heathen was having on him. Disgusted and appalled, Adam was almost ashamed of himself. He wasn't a monster, he wasn't a sadist. He wasn-a knock at the door caught his attention. With the deep knocking sound, Adam knew that it was his right hand man who was visiting him. It was like the lieutenant was reading his mind.

"Come in," Adam said as he pushed himself off the bedding to sit up properly.

The two of them didn't need to make eye contact, not when the door was shut and locked tight. No words were exchanged as Adam turned his head slowly towards the door and saw his lieutenant walk towards him. Large, muscular, the opposite of his female partners and of his own body type. And as such, Adam didn't mind when his lieutenant caressed his cheek and tilted his head upwards like Adam had done to their hostage. A thumb was presented against his lower lip, inching closer until Adam's mouth was wrapped around it. Another battle was going to start between the Schnee and White Fang, so who knows how long it would be until they would be able to have such an intimate moment like this. Adam needed to release all the stress away to be their calm and collected, fearless leader.


	2. the Devil (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Implications of gore and death.

War. An onslaught of chaos that ended in nothing but bloodshed and grief. Where peace is but a glimmer of hope as it was just an idealistic fantasy that was sought out by so many. Yet, as time passes, the more and more depressingly dark the world becomes, as nothing could satisfy the world's hunger. So when two sides of the fights with opposing ideals that threaten one another, negotiations seem futile. But it was that tiny sliver of hope that negotiation would work where peace rears its sadistic heart, and Adam is a slave to its whip. He was all too familiar with how it goes. He was tired. He was mad. Adam was exhausted as he leads this war like the warmonger he is. And yet, his heart ached as he was once again lashed with that glimmer of hope. To keel over, to end it all, to finally have... _peace_.

He hugged the pillow close to his chest as he laid face down on the bed. His heart was trembling as he was reminded of the reality of his enemy. No amount of loving pets or soft touches from his lover could shelter him from the icy domain that came from battling a demon of ice. Adam knew all too well how his men would feel if _he_ were taken captive - after all, the Schnees and the White Fang were more similar than they would want to admit. He knew that his men wouldn't give up or surrender. Even Adam would stand tall and face his own execution with the pride of a faunus, the High Leader of the White Fang, of the man he wanted to be. Adam knew that his lover would make sure that their cause wasn't lost, even after his death, and Adam knew the head of the Schnees was just as inhuman as the media would portray the White Fang. And even if the White Fang was able to behead the spawn of the Devil and parade its head on the pike for all to see, it wouldn't stop the Schnees from continuing its injustice.

Adam buried his head into the bedding, letting his lover lean over and kiss the back of his ear. The bull faunus groaned softly, a spark in his body made his chest ache. He didn't want to face the world, he wasn't ready, but life never went his way. Time was ticking, and the day would start with or without him. His lover was the first one to move and dress with Adam following after him. There was work to be done, planning, and relocating. The injured must be attended and left disguised as citizens to let them recover. They must communicate with the rest of the pack to make their escape before the Schnees and hunters could find them. They needed to be discreet; they needed to be swift and to keep all their cards close to them.

His lightning blue eyes stared at the tussled mess of his body. Standing was a man half-naked caked in colors of pink and red. He let out a breath as he saw how tired he looked in the mirror. Hands went to trace the newly made nail marks on his body, eyes outlined the bite marks that had made tears well up in his eyes. He dared to look at his face, defeated from pure and utter exhaustion. Yet, he drew in a breath and straightened up his stance. Buttoning his shirt and popping his collar, he strapped Wilt and Blush to his hip before throwing his iconic black jacket over his shoulder.

It was only when he adorned his grimm mask over his eyes that he held the confidence and swagger of the High Leader of the White Fang. His mind was focused and trained. He was prepared for the negotiations and the game of chase that had already started. It was the first step to show the hunters what it means to actually hunt, to show them what it is like to become the prey. The White Fang would show the heathens of the world that they weren't as indestructible as they would think. They will show them how animalistic humans can be, and how intelligent and cunning the faunus were as well. They will bring them a fate worse than death. The White Fang would become their sadistic torturers who will rip their flesh and gnaw on their bones. They will show them how human the faunus could be.

* * *

He was the Devil.

The deafening silence of the night air had kept her up, and the creaks of the house sent shivers up her spine. The words of the faunus were echoing inside her mind. And as the clock ticked, the more and more believable the statements became. Her eyes darted from side to side, freezing when the house groaned as she was too petrified to dare look towards where the noise came from. Weiss was shaking, not only in fear but the lack of warmth. Her aura was almost nonexistent, thanks to the collar around her neck. And that's what made the situation worse.

 _"My men want to devour you_."

She was defenseless, and they had access to her prison cell of a room. Weiss knew they could take her any time of the day, but it was at night when the thoughts really got to her. As the wood groaned and the moon illuminating the only thing that separated her from the faunus that wanted her dead, all she could do was stare at it. But as time passed and the groans turned into ghastly howls, Weiss shut her eyes tightly. She didn't want to think of the beasts on the other side.

But within a flash, the young girl could see the haunting image of glowing red orbs between slits of that bone-white mask. Even as her eyes reopened, she could feel the head of that faunus' body against hers. He was large, and his breath was hot against her ear. She could feel his teeth nipping at the cartilage, so close to biting it and tearing it off. Weiss remembered the line his knuckles traced on her neck, how it stung like it was claws or teeth sinking into her flesh. Her anxiety was starting to suffocate her as the chains around her arms rattled. But it wasn't the way the moonlight made his mask glow that terrified her so much. No. It was his voice. His calm and deep caramel rich voice that made her loins moisten in excitement and fear.

.

_"Claim you, break you, use you as a pet._

_Devour you like animals you think we are_."

.

He was a monster from the fairytales that she would read in the late of night.

He was the savage beast that devoured little boys and girls if they misbehaved.

He was the dragon that must be slain to save the princess.

.

 _"I want to destroy every fiber of your body_."

.

He was the huntsman ordered by the queen to kill the princess.

He was a monster.

He was human.

No. He had to be the Devil.

* * *

But as quickly as the night overcast the sky, the sun soon rose, and the fear of the darkness consuming her had simmered down. Weiss found herself awakening to the sound of the door opening, not realizing she had dozed off from exhaustion. Panic made the chains rattle as she tried to push herself flesh against the wall. Eyes were blurred as all she could see was a bone-white mask marked with red approaching her. The thunderous sounds of boots against the wooden flooring pounding in her ears sent her head spinning until she saw the monster crouching before her. Weiss wanted to scream as her fears seemed to be coming true. She could feel his hands around her throat, she could feel the nails sinking into the flesh. She felt the drops of blood run down her spine.

"Eat."

A voice commanded her as her eyes opened and came back to reality, where she was uninjured, and nothing had been done to her. Eyes adjusted to the light as she blinked, trying to wipe her eyes with her lashes. A bowl was forced towards her face, her arms were still chained against the wall. Moments passed as she registered what they expected her to do. They were forcing her to eat like a dog, like some animal. It was humiliating, being forced to eat in such a manner. Disgusting. Degrading. Low. Yet as much as she wanted to refuse, to retain her status as not just a Schnee, but a proper human being, her stomach was hurting.

She ate. Like a filthy animal they were treating her as. Her pride was being chipped at as she expected the faunus to belittle her. Weiss waited for them to laugh, to vocalize the pathetic act she was enacting. But there was nothing but silence, letting her eat until she couldn't anymore. Weiss turned her head when she was done, letting the food drip from her chin and lips. There wasn't any chance she, herself, could clean her face. She fully expected to be left like this. But her head was forcibly turned, and a piece of cloth was pressed to her lips. The touch was rough, uncaring, but they wiped the food from her mouth.

It was this moment their eyes locked. Where Weiss expected hatred, she was nothing. The faunus stared at her with bored eyes, as if she wasn't even there. And those eyes were not a glowing red, but an emerald green behind the mask. As the Schnee princess was able to take in who had entered her room, the faunus had already started to leave. And as quickly as the faunus had entered, they left without a word.

And as time would tell, a routine would be set. She was ignored, forgotten until it was time to feed. At points she was let out, shoved to clean herself up with no sense of privacy. Eyes were always watching her, ready to pounce on her, and Weiss didn't even have the strength or will to try and provoke them. The sun would illuminate her room before night would fall, and the moon would rise. She waited for her door to open again, making her meet face to face with the Devil once again. Yet as the moon crossed the sky and the house creaked again, the Devil's lack of presence tormented her more and more.

A routine would be set as days and weeks passed. There was a certain rhythm that she was being forced to dance to. Like school and her home life, she quickly adapted to their schedule. She was malleable to their will. She was pushed and shoved in every direction they wanted her. And it would be weeks of wearing commoners clothing and camping out in the woods that she realized how dull and slow life was compared to the horror stories told. Her fear of being tormented had long passed after their first night traveling through the woods. She was kept close, was under surveillance twenty-four-seven, but otherwise ignored.

The scenery would shift, the guards would change, but wherever they went, it was always her and the Devil. In the sunlight, his haunting figured was cast aside. Instead of the animalistic and demonic image painted in her head when all she could see was the glow of that grimm-like mask, Weiss stared at a red-haired devil with horns black as the night. His eyes were covered by a long black ribbon, hiding those glowing red eyes that haunted her dreams. She watched the Devil and saw how sweet he talked. That caramel voice was rich with passion, that had a tone of reassurance and safety – to the point that even she understood why the Devil was so good at temptation. Yet, she knew that those words were not meant for her. His army wanted to bring death and destruction to humankind.

* * *

It was in the darkness of the night when they were attacked. She woke up to screams of agony and pain accompanied by bullets cutting through the air. Tied, bound, and useless, Weiss was defenseless as all she could do was frantically pull at her restraints. Her aura wrapped trying to protect her, to lend in aid, to cut the restraints. But as soon as she tried to muster energy, the collar around her neck locked and caused her to scream in pain. Her body fell to the ground as the pinching sting pierced her skin. It was only when she stopped tugging at the restraints did it end.

Yet, her eyes stayed wide as she felt her leg being pulled. Large hands grabbed her ankle, and like her books and movies, she was caught. A blunt weapon struck her side as voices started to converse. Her head was pounding, as things were a blur in the darkness. Pain. She cried as she was struck more and more, feet kicked her like a sack of dirt. She tried to curl up, protect her head as the voices were loud, yelling at her, which only made her cry louder. Tears were in her eyes as she struggled, she wanted to run, get away, for everything to stop.

And suddenly, it did.

Black as the shadows and glowing crimson red as brilliantly as dust, Weiss' eyes blurred from the tears dripping from them. Loud thumps were heard and a sheathing of a blade so crisp Weiss almost missed it. But her moment of peace ceased when she screamed. The collar around her neck started to suffocate her. Jolts of pain caused her to foam at the mouth as she twisted and turned. Her mind went blank as soon as she heard the click of lock, and everything went numb.

She didn't remember much of that night, only pain. But as her crystal blue eyes fluttered open, she saw the remnants of what had occurred. Where the small camp would have been bustling with faunus packing and preparing to move, there was only the Devil carrying dirt with his hands to fill a hole that he had created. His body was covered in mud, sweat patterns were dripping down his skin, and his torn wings were out on display. The dirt caked up around those scars, long lines of welts littered his back. It was when she saw him pick up the last body of his fellow faunus that she realized just how strong the Devil was. Weiss wanted to puke as she watched the Devil string up the limbs and heads of their attackers. She closed her eyes as she didn't want to see the horrific scene he was painting.

The Devil would come to crouch before her, blocking her view from the masterpiece he had created. The sound of morning birds filled the air as she moved to try and sit up. There was a pull towards the Devil. The warm allure from how damage both she and him have pulled them together. Her body ached from the blows she was dealt with, and she could see just how beaten up and damage he truly was. The dirt that powdered his face was cemented with tears he had cried. Those once brilliant blue eyes she thought were a glowing red were branded of her family name. But it was only when he had reached out to touch her cheek only for her to flinch away, did she remember that despite the Devil was once an angel...he was still the Devil.

They stayed there frozen in time as they realized their situation together in the forest. Even if they were the only survivors of the ambush the other night. Even if he had saved her from being beaten and shocked to death. Even if all she wanted to do was cry in his arms. It was an impulse to latch onto the Devil. To think that he'd fall in love with her and keep her safe was but a glorified fantasy. They were still captor and hostage. He had to kill to survive. He had to save her for his prize. He was still the Devil that would reign terror and bring fear to all of humanity. And she was but a tool for him to achieve his self-indulgent desires.


	3. the Devil (Part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Death, gore, water torture (drowning), emotional manipulation.

It all started with a single bullet piercing through the air before a cry of an injured animal bellowed into the night. Screams of pain jolted them awake. A hand went to grasp the sheathed blade next to him as Adam scuffled to his feet. The moon was illuminating the scenery before them. His eyes reflected the light as he watched some of his men rush towards their injured brethren. Others had made eye contact with him, weapons in hand as they all got to their feet. All of them were prepared to defend themselves, but they did not dare move as they waited for the next attack.

Adam's hair stood on its ends. He sniffed the crisp fresh air, nothing but the tree foliage filled his nose. There was no scent for them to track, their attackers were well trained. Waves of anxiety rippled down his spine as he clutched the handle of his chokutō, Wilt. The wind rustled, the perfect mask to cover up any footsteps, and there were no abnormal tree movements. Within moments, the high of the adrenaline reached it peak and started to-BANG.

Another shot was fired. A clash of sharp metals piercing each other made his blade glow a fiery red. Adam had absolved the bullet through the blade, channeling his aura through it as if it were an extension of his limbs. But yet another blood curdling scream filled the air. Another one of his men fell to the ground. Heads turned, eyes snapped towards the injured. His body started to move on its own. Another shot was fired and another sharp noise as bullets continued to hit his blade. Sweat was building up as the heat of the air continued to climb. Adam could smell it all around him, the putrid scent kept grabbing his attention as his men were clearly in distress. And it was filling his nose, blocking his senses, making his head pound louder and louder.

Yet, he remained calm. He **had** to remain calm. Adam had to keep his body in check. He needed to stay in control. He directed his men with the tilt of his head, with the point of his blade. There was no need for verbal orders. No. He couldn't bark orders. They were prepared for situations like this. They had trained and worked together for far to long to know what exactly they were up against. His hand signals, his movements, the way he pointed his blade and reflected the moonlight, they all followed his orders. They had to win to survive. They had to destroy their enemy before they destroyed them. They refused to be mounted in the walls of sick and twisted hunters who viewed their animal parts as trophies for their collection.

Faunus hunters were almost like a sick twisted old wive's tale parents told their children to keep them in check. But all faunus knew that they were all real and were a force to reckoned with. The faunus hunters traveled in groups, coordinating their hunts to an astonishing level. They were sportsmen who grew tired of hunting animals that kept running away from them. They wanted more intelligent game. They were sadistic psychopaths were were just one step closer to becoming serial killers who hunted humans for fun. They were disgusting vile creatures that got off on slowly torturing innocent faunus. And they were one of the main customers of illegal faunus trafficking. As such, faunus hunters were more dangerous than any hired mercenary of the Schnee Dust Company.

Panic and chaos were all what the faunus hunters brought. But those were elements that Adam lived and thrived on. The bull faunus took deep breaths as he deflected and absorbed every bullet directed at him. He moved fluidly , confidently, almost majestically as he manipulated his blade. He was precise in his blocks. But even as he continued to push against the force against them, the chorus of injured cries became louder and louder.

The clock was ticking and seconds started to turn into minutes, and the more apparent the fight was turning against them. The same number of bullets kept coming in and there was no indication of them even dropping down. Adam knew that his men kept falling down one by one, and that the few who had went to take out the hunters had failed.

Rage and adrenaline fueled his aura as it started to boil inside of him. He knew goddamn well that his men were dying and the more he let this drag out, the more of a change he would love every one of their lives. It was when he had to shift, he had to go on the offensive himself. He closed his eyes as he gave a fraction of meditation. He had no time, he couldn't focus his energy like he usually did. He let the aura around him start to slip out. He let it boil up in the core of his body before it traveled to his arm and legs, to the soles of his feet and palms of his hand. He knew what he must have looked like to the hunters. Countless of times his men had called him a raging bull. He was seeing and glowing red, ready to destroy everything in front of him with a blinding rage. He would shatter everything like the broken moon illuminating the night.

From the red dust sewn into his clothing, to the crimson locks of his hair, to the blood that painted the ground below his feet, all of it glowed a brilliant red. His aura was powerful, strong as the muscles in his body as he felt the steam of his rage rise from the ground. And when he opened his eyes, he launched himself forward. Cutting through the forest, sprinting with all the force and energy he had stored, he used it to move towards the direction of the bullets. He moved fast, he **had** to move fast. He had to destroy their enemy as quickly as possible. He had to destroy everything in his way.

Adam was a wild bull, rampaging into the forest. Kicking up dust with his horns pointed directly at the hunters that had caught his eyes. And the hunters that had attacked him stood no chance. Not when he was blinded by his own aura and his thirst for blood had consumed him. He wanted their blood splattered everywhere. He wanted them mounted on his wall. He wanted them to suffer a painful death, bleeding out like the worthless sacks of meat they were.

But like a blind bull, when he heard a distinct cry into the night did his attention turn towards it. For a split second he was able to regain his sense of consciousnesses. It was a female cry. A woman in danger. A flash of long black hair and glittering gold eyes crossed his mind. He stood there frozen as slowly made his way towards the cries of the woman. Eyes were wide, glowing a deep blood red like the grimm, as his lips curled back into a sinister grin. His eyes were trained on the hunters who dare take advantage of _**his**_ prize. And with his horns and blade pointed at them, he cut the souls down. Their bodies fell with deep thunks and for once the bullets had finally stopped.

Adam's chest was still trembling, his arms were still shaking as he stared down at the only other survivor of that night. The woman turned out to be that pale demon now covered in blood and convulsing in pain. It took him moments to see the collar around its neck and another few to realize electricity was being sent towards its neck. The demon was foaming at the mouth, suffocating and gargling from the pain. But all he could do was stare down at it, watching it suffer and contort. He crouched down, ready to wrap his fingers around its neck. He wanted it to die as well, let it suffer like everything else. But he **had** to keep it alive. So he unlocked the collar, letting the pale demon's suffering end.

Silence immediately took over the forest and Adam was alone. He was frozen in time, letting his eyes readjust and focus once again. The hand that was clutching his blade had loosened. He heard the pang of Wilt hitting the ground beneath him as he looked around the campsite. Corpses littered across the ground and the blood was contaminated with his aura. It was a side effect when he lost control of himself, when he lets out and uses too much of his aura all at once. Yet, it was such a beautiful sight to see. His aura clung onto the droplets as it dissolved into the air above. They were like shards of the shattered moon above, being carried away before disappearing into the night. It was the reason why **she** had given his semblance such a beautiful name: Moonslice.

But it was during these moments did he realize he was once again alone.

And he screamed. Howling at the moon, cursing the world as tears ran down his face. His eyes started up at the moon, reflecting its light right back up at it. The scent of death filled the once cold and crisp air. He was alone, watching the blood of his men and enemies evaporate so beautifully into the night sky. Adam screamed at fate, calling her a bewitching whore, before burying his face into his blood-stained hands.

Hours would pass before Adam would be able to gather himself. His eyes looked down at the only other survivor of that night. Adam discarded his jacket and shirt, letting it cover its body and provider some sort of warmth. He would mourn the rest of the night by digging in the middle of the campsite. His fingers were numb as sweat and tears blurred his vision. His body ached from the toll of his semblance. Adam had exacerbated himself by pushing his body to the limits and using his aura so recklessly, for allowing himself to be blinded by rage. He cursed himself for not being strong enough, for not being fast enough, for not being prepared enough to protect his men from those hunters.

Sunrise would hit as he dragged the last of his fallen brethren to the hole. Adam pushed against the mounds of dirt, burying the bodies into the ground. His soul had left him long ago and all he could do was stand and stare down at the poorly made grave. Defeated and tired, he knew that he was far from finished. Eyes drifted towards sliced up corpses of his enemies. Adam's body moved on its own as he started to strip and rip off the clothes of the monsters that had attacked them. He tied the pieces of cloth together to make makeshift ropes. And with the hacking of his sword, he sliced through every joint of their bodies. Hoisting their severed limbs up into the trees and lined their heads along the ground. He mounted the hunters on his wall just like they would have done with him and his men. It serves them right, treating faunus like animals, thinking their tails, ears, and horns were nothing but trophies.

Wiping the sweat off his brow, Adam dared to look at the slumbering demon that was still alive. His crystal blue eyes made contact with their dead icy ones. Exhausted, he slowly made his way towards it before crouching down. Both didn't dare to talk or speak, instead the just stared at each other. It had tried to sit up, bringing their faces closer. Their eye locked with one another for a few moments before his own glanced down towards its neck. It was damaged and certainly was tender from the amount of shocks done to it the other night, Adam was more than familiar with it.

His hand rose to reach out, to turn it head so he could get a better look at its wounds. But instead it flinched away, making him freeze for a couple of moments. Eyes snapped back to remake eye contact, to see what it was thinking. He held a steady gaze before he realized it was staring off towards his left side. It would take moments for realization to understand **what** it was starting at. Adam retracted his hand and scooped up his clothes from its lap. He wiped his face to soak up the sweat that was dripping from his forehead.

"Get up," he commanded as he slowly stood back up on his feet.

He was tired, he was exhausted, and he wanted to sleep. But, he knew they had to push on, to get to the town just a few miles away. They had no time to waste, and the events of that night was just lady luck laughing at his misery. Adam scooped up the black cloth he was using to cover his eyes. He made sure the scar on his left side was completely hidden before he was able to regain any composure. His shoulders rolled back on instinct, he was able to strap Wilt and Blush against his side once again. He was able to look down at the icy demon with the hostility and hate he had towards its kind.

"I said **GET UP** ," he hissed before grabbing the rope that still bound its wrists and yanked it to its feet. They had to move, and they had no time to waste.

* * *

They walked in silence through the forest, not daring to speak a word to one another. Weiss kept close to the Devil despite ever fiber of her being telling her to run away. The rope around her hands were still tied tightly around her wrists, but the empty weight on her shoulders gave her hope. The Devil had forgotten to replace the metal collar around her neck, something Weiss wasn't sure if he had done so on purpose or on accident. Regardless, she felt conflicted. A part of her told her to run, to use her aura and semblance to escape. The huntress in her told her that she had to get away, to find her way back to beacon and tell everything she had learned. But another part of her told her that the Devil was toying with her. That he was dangling this false sense of freedom only to have an excuse to harm her. And an even smaller part of her thought the Devil was slowly beginning to trust her, perhaps even sympathize with her. That their small shared moment together meant something.

Weiss pushed those thoughts away from her mind as they continued their journey. The forest around them was empty, but she kept feeling eyes watching her, stalking her. Eyes darted back and forth, waiting for something to jump out and attack them. She could still feel the aches in her sides and legs from where the weapons had struck her body. Weiss drew in a shaky breath, trying to dismiss those memories. The Devil had already killed every last one of them. Right? She saw their corpses being hung in such a grotesque way, surely they couldn't come back.

Yet she quickened her pace to be just a little closer to the Devil. He was her only protection now. This faunus that had been haunting her dreams the first few nights was the only creature now capable of keeping her from danger. And strangely enough, he had yet to lay a finger on her.

She turned her head, casting her gaze down as she rubbed her thumbs together. Up until this point in time, she had yet to even be harmed by him. Sure, that first night he had scared her and the grip on her hair caused her small pain. But never had he once slapped her or beaten her. He had threatened her and raised his voice, but he didn't hurt her. The only time he had touched her was to grip her hair or run his fingers down her neck. And it made her blush. She remembered how she felt that first night and the events of that morning. His touches were so similar, the way he moved was so gentle. Weiss could feel how soft the edges of his fingers were, how they barely brushed against her skin and the way his voiced melted in her ears.

But she shut her eyes once more. Like that morning, she had to remind herself that she was nothing but a tool to him. The way she was bound and being dragged, the way she was guarded like she was some prized possession. He yelled at her, threatened her...but his voice was always like that, even towards his own men. Her lips curled down into a frown. No. She was making excuses for him. The devil was cruel, evil, and he was going to discard her as soon as he didn't have a use for her any- _ **CRUNCH**_.

She found herself pressed up against the Devil's back. The way his hand reached around to keep her behind him made her fears increase as she tried to make herself appear smaller. It was instinct. She gripped the back of his shirt, pressing her nose between his shoulder blades as she closed her eyes. They were going to be attacked again. This was where it was all going to end. This was where she was going to die. Weiss could feel the tension of his muscles as he moved his arm away from her. He was getting ready to strike with his sword. The two of them stayed frozen like that for moments. The air was simmering with anticipation before nothing happened.

"Let's go," he ordered as she felt the ropes be yanked again.

They continued their travels, navigating through the trees. Silence fell upon them as they reached a stream. It was there that they were going to rest a moment. Weiss watched as the Devil dropped everything like he was relieved to stop. He was clearly exhausted. Weiss awkwardly stood there as he seemed like he was in his own little world. The Devil was distracted, tired, and it was the perfect opportunity to escape. Weiss bit her lip, flexing her hands as she wondered if she could actually escape. If she used her semblance right now to try and cut the rope, she could run and-

A yelp emitted from her throat as she was suddenly yanked forward. Losing her footing, she stumbled forward and crashed into the hard chest of the Devil. She felt her shirt being gripped as she was forced to stand on her toes. He looked down at her and it was at this point did she realized how small she was compared to him. Her eyes were wide as he towered over her, looking down upon her like she was nothing but an ant.

"Don't make me hurt you," he hissed.

It was a threat. An all too real threat as she felt those knuckles against the side of her neck again. It was only after a few moment did he release her, letting her fall to her knees and curl up against the ground. She didn't dare want to challenge his words. Not when she could still smell the sweat and blood off of his skin. Not when she knew that he could be so demented and cruel.

Weiss curled up into a ball as she started to question everything around her. Why was he threatening her when he could do whatever the hell he wanted with her. She knew already that he wanted to destroy her, to tear her to pieces and watch her suffer. Yet, for months now he had done nothing but ignore her entire existence. He could have kept her barely alive. He could have let her die the other night. Yet why make her suffer like this. Why doesn't he just be done with her and kill her on the spot.

She sucked in a breath as she dared to look over at him. Anger and frustration were in her eyes as he watched him carry on with his own business. He was ignore her again. Pretending that she doesn't exist when they both know goddamn well that he was keeping a sharp eye on her. She watched him scrub the dirt off his skin with a damp shirt. His back was turned towards her, not able to see what she was doing. Weiss bit her lip as she looked down at her feet before summoning bits of her aura. Taking a deep breath, she moved to crouch before propelling herself forward using one of her glyphs towards the Devil.

Her movement speed was fast, she had trained for many years after all. And within moments she tackled him into the stream, pinning him down with her weight onto to find nothing to grip. He had cast off his shirt, leaving her nails to grasp at nothing. It was within this moment she realized she should have used the time to have propelled herself in the opposite direction. She should have used this time to escape. Her speed was far greater than his reaction time, he wouldn't have been able to pull her back with the rope.

But she was blinded by anger. She knew deep down she didn't want to be hurt, she wanted to run away and go back to Beacon. But she also was frustrated that the Devil was doing the opposite of everything that she expected. She wanted to scream at him, yell at him to hurt her like he had threatened. To tell him that he was all bark and no bite, that other people have done far worse to her than he had yet to do. That she now was far more scared of being attacked than him attacking her. That her even her father was capable of raising a hand to her. And all he, the Devil, had done was give her empty threats?

So she wrapped her fingers around his neck, as that was all she could do. And with all the force of her body, she kept his head pinned down in the water as he struggled underneath her. She leaned in with all of her weight, pressing down as hard as she could. Hoping she could subdue him, make him pass out before he could get the upper hand.

But that was all wishful thinking. Within moments of panic, he had gripped her wrists and had flipped them over with ease. She was smaller, lighter, not as strong, and her aura was already so low from the injures she had sustained. Weiss struggled against his weight as he pried her fingers from his neck and dug his nails into her skin. She kicked and screamed to get loose, but he twisted her body and pressed her face straight into the waters of the stream.

_Why?_

the Devil asked her as her face was plunged in and out of the water.

_Why?_

the Devil asked her as she felt like she was drowning.

_Why make him do this?_

the Devil asked her as she coughed up water

_Why make him hurt her?_

the Devil asked as she was barely able to breath.

Her body was weak by the time it was finally over. She was exhausted and numb, laying on the ground as she stared up at the now orange tinted sky. The Devil soon came into her field of vision, looming over her like a dark shadow where she couldn't make out anything details. His horns were large, and for once he actually looked like the Devil himself. If only he had a tail and damaged wings would it have completed the look. But that didn't matter really, not when she had given up.

**"Why do you make me do this to you."**

the Devil asked Weiss once again, his voice so gentle as if he actually didn't want to hurt her. And perhaps, for a moment, she actually did believe his words. Perhaps she had forgotten how he said he wanted to destroy every fiber of her being. After all, actions speak louder than words, Weiss was all too familiar with that. And the Devil's actions were nothing but kind and gentle. Forceful yes, she was use to that with her father. And she did ask for this, didn't she?

Weiss closed her eyes. No. This was just another one of the Devil's tricks. She knew deep down that he wanted to hurt her and she knew that he was just waiting for his moment to do so. And now he had done it, he had hurt her like he wanted to do so. Weiss frowned as she dared to open her eyes again. The Devil's face was now crystal clear in front of her...and she could see the amount of torturous pain that were held within those eyes.

She knew how much he understood pain. She knew the scars on his back were where his angel wings were ripped from him. She knew the hell's fire had scorched his face, reminding forever of his damned soul. Weiss knew that deep down the Devil **didn't** enjoy hurting others. That **they** brought it upon themselves and **he** was only giving them what they were asking for.

Weiss felt her lips tremble as she started to curl up underneath him and cried. She reached out to him, pulling herself closer to him just like she had done when she thought they were being attacked. Her mind was telling her to run, but her body clung onto the Devil like her life depended on it. Both knew that he didn't want to hurt her. Both knew that she had begged for it even when he had done everything to avoid raising a hand to her. Weiss took in a heavy breath, mustering up the strength to speak. And when she did, she whispered in a very soft and broken voice.

"... _I'm sorry."_


	4. the Scent of Iron (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author was half awake when writing the second half of this...so apologies in advance.
> 
> **Next chapter will contain: underaged sex** , as Weiss is 17 and Adam is 23, and is skippable. If you choose to skip, please note that the next chapter is all just a wet dream and Adam did not do anything with Weiss. Author is just a sick fuck.
> 
> Trigger Warning: blood (menstruation). Implication of Stockholm syndrome.

It had been a day or so since the night of blood. The stress of their relationship had been released and things had started to simmer down. A new routine had fallen into place, one where the Devil had become more prominent in her life. Before she had rarely interacted with him during her months of captivity. It was only during their relocations that she ever his haunting mask, and now it was the only thing she could look at. The Devil had become the center of her world, everything started to revolve around him. She was tethered by a rope, walking close behind him but she found herself being drawn close to him. The rope around her wrists were lax and loose. Weiss felt safe under his gaze, walking right beside him and staying close by his side.

After the events of that cursed day, she started to see the softer side of the Devil. He had yet to put the collar back onto her neck permanently. The only time he did put it back on was the day she had attacked him, a warning of why he had given her the luxury of having it off. As soon as he had recollared her, the aura that were mending her wounds automatically triggered the collar to activate. It was painful, suffocating her once more and damaging her neck once again. He watched her grovel on the ground before taking it off. The Devil had warned her again, and she took his words to heart. Weiss knew that the Devil wouldn’t hesitate to put that collar on her again. No. She just didn’t want to test her luck.

But even with the soreness of her neck dying down and the tenderness disappearing, Weiss saw how things had changed. The ropes around her wrists had loosened, allowing her more mobility. He was concerned about the wounds on her neck; checking them every night to look for any infections. She secretly loved the attention, the way he was so gentle with her. The feeling of his gloves against her neck, the way he looked at her through the cloth around his eyes. She found herself sitting closer and closer to him during their breaks – and she noticed how he didn’t move away from her. They were bonding, he was starting to warm up to her. He was beginning to trust her. She could escape if she wanted- **NO**.

No.

She knew that he’d hurt her again. Weiss knew if she tried to escape again, he would surely kill her. He warned her. He told her he’d put that collar back on her neck and watch her die. Her body stiffened at the mere thought of it suffocating her again. She didn’t want to die like that. She didn’t want to die an agonizing death. Her breath quickened as she forced herself to take deep breaths. She reminded herself as long as she behaved he wouldn’t do anything. He had yet to hurt her again. There was no reason to run away anyways. The Devil was giving her everything she needed to survive: food, water, warmth, attention. He gave her all of that, and she didn’t need to lift a finger. As long as she was a good girl, he didn’t harm a hair on her head.

Weiss kept her gaze at the ground, as usual, as they walked. She tried to dismiss her inner torment, telling herself that she was thinking too much. And that’s what she hated about all of this, she had too much time to think. Early on she had learned her mind was her own worst enemy, plaguing her dreams with nightmares that were more terrifying than real life. But she knew that if she dared try to speak with the Devil, it would be a one sided conversation. She had tried so hours ago, trying to make small talk, but he responded with short answers and nothing to contribute. Weiss was on to speak her mind, she was raised to let others do the talking and hold the power to dismiss others. Schnees were not beggers, they did not seek out help, help came to them.

Besides, she much preferred the night. It was the time she could stare up at the sky and let her thoughts fill up with curiosity of the universe. Night was the time of rest, where she could let her aching feet and legs recover. And…she was able to sleep with the company of someone else. For once in her life she could feel warmth and comfort. The past few months she was forced to sleep alone. The last decade of her life she was forced to sleep alone in her icy prison. And now, in this disgusting forest, she was sharing body heat with the Devil himself. He _allowed_ her to feel warmth and peace. Serenity.

It was what she thought _home_ should feel like. It was what she hoped her home was.

And as bad as it sounded, Weiss couldn’t help but let her fantasies drift off. Parts of her couldn’t help but **wish** to stay in the forest forever with the Devil. Where she had no expectations. She had someone to protect her. She was bound with someone who wasn’t intimidated by her nor was just after her status as a Schnee. For all of her life, Weiss had been surrounded by people wanting to have a share of her wealth, the perks of being friends of a Schnee. As she grew up, she saw how men lusted after her. She was beautiful, elegant, rich…a woman idolized by men where they tried every trick in the book to catch her attention. Her sister had prepared her for this fate, she taught her how to keep her dignity. And that was something Weiss idolized about her sister. Her sister was stunning, icy cold and dignified who could turn down men with a glance of her eyes. Weiss wanted to be like that, she tried to be like that…but boys kept coming.

But of course, the one boy that had caught her eye was a man who did just the opposite. It sounded like a highschool love drama, how the most popular girl in school falls for the one boy who doesn’t give a care in the world about her. Weiss remembers how she couldn’t understand _why_ any woman would chase after a man who didn’t put in the effort. That was until she saw the face of the Devil, staring down at her with his damaged face and behind him was a macabre scene of a horror film. He was her nightmare; he was her savior. He was an angel and a demon. But most importantly, he was the opposite of everything she knew about boys.

The day they first met, he had threatened her. He told her that he wanted to tear her apart, that his men wanted to devour her, that he wanted to hurt her. Both knew that the Devil was fully capable of doing whatever he wanted to her. Both knew that he could violate her right here and now, use her as some toy to chew on. Yet he didn’t. He had yet to lay a finger on her in that way. And there were _plenty_ of times that he could have taken advantage of her. And furthermore, he was more mature than the other boys.

Her eyes shifted to the ground. A part of her _wished_ the Devil were a bit disgusted or interested in her. They had been **far** too intimate with one another already. He had **seen** parts of her that were too embarrassing to even describe. Weiss could feel a blush creep up on her face as she was reminded of the piece of cloth between her legs. Her steps started to slow down before she came to a complete stop. Lips pressed together, trying not to quiver as she could feel things start to leek out. Horror was crawling up her face.

The tension of the rope was always the first signal that she had stopped. Things were playing out like they always did, a new step in their routine. And as such, it wasn’t long before she heard his feet turn towards her. Weiss felt those eyes look her up and down, he was analyzing the situation. Cold. Calculating. That was what she learned when he had time to think. The Devil would walk towards her, fishing out one of the strips of cloth they were using to soak up the mess. Weiss bit the inside of her lip as she rubbed her thumbs together.

“You wanna do it, or do you want me to?” he asked.

Her eyes were set on the ground, not daring to look up at him. Ever since they woke up to a pool of blood underneath her, she couldn’t dare look him in the face. She was humiliated that this kind of thing had happened while they were locked together. It was bad enough weeks ago that it happened, but the female faunus always allowed her to do things herself. But now, they didn’t have the luxury of privacy. And he didn’t come prepared for it…and since he was handing out everything to her…

She knew every part of her body wanted to do this herself, like she always had. And earlier that morning, when it first started, she did. Oh god knows how quickly she took the strips of cloth and made sure his back was turned when she did it. And things were fine, the Devil was rather… _mature_ about the situation. Her fears of the Devil screaming at her, beating her, or just turning wild because of something so- so disgusting happened never came. She half expected him to puke because boys were so squeamish about the subject, yet, he didn’t. Instead he had given her the option of letting her do it herself. Keep her dignity. And she would have continued to do so…if he wasn’t…wasn’t so…so adamant on… _collecting_ the soiled cloth afterwards. It was disgusting. Sickening. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“…you…” Weiss said meekly, barely above a whisper as she shifted her weight.

She turned her back towards him, walking over to a nearby tree and leaned against it. Weiss couldn’t face him, not during something like this. The blush on her cheeks were making her face sore as she knew how inappropriate and lewd this whole scene was. Parts of her were screaming to tell him that she changed her mind, that she’d do it herself. But she remembered how he held out his hand, waiting for her to drop the soiled cotton into it. How stoic his face was, how he didn’t seemed bothered by _anything_. And she remembered how she dared to see if he was getting off on all of this. And she remembered how she realized that only she was getting all worked up over it.

“Stay still,” he said.

The Devil was a gentle creature at heart, and his touch was warm and inviting against her lower back. He was trying to sooth her, calm her from her own embarrassment. His thumb stroked her skin through the fabric, his voice guiding her through what he was doing. A part of her disliked how he **had** to vocalize every single step, as if _that_ was going to calm her down. No. It was more embarrassing to hear him articulate his movements. And she hated how she actually wished that he would fill the air with more words instead of leaving them in silence.

“I’m removing these.”

His hands moved, pushing up the ends of the shirt she was wearing. It was one of his and it barely reached her mid-thighs, and of course, she just had her panties. Weiss pressed her lips together as she leaned further against the tree. She wanted to hide away, she wanted to merge with the tree and disappear into the world. She wanted him to seize her hips and drag her back, to tell her to stay put. She felt him loop his fingers around the sides, he could easily drag her back to reality.

_I’m going to devour you now, Princess._

Weiss stiffened as her mind was playing tricks on her. It was agonizing, how he was drawing everything out. How she could _feel_ everything that was happening. Her legs were shaking. Nothing about this was sexual at all. Nothing. It was humiliating. Disgusting. Wrong. She closed her eyes, trying not to concentrate on the fact that he could see everything. No. She could still feel his eyes on her, looking at her like she was his prey. He was going to eat her, destroy her, turn her into shreds. His fingers were already ripping her-

“Come,” his voice halted her thoughts.

And it was over. Within a flash and before she actually _wanted_ it to be over. The cold air brushed against her skin as she felt so small against the tree. Her face was flustering, her cheeks ached from the tension. She hastily tried to cover herself up, pulling down the shirt as she shifted her legs. They felt cold, naked, against the breeze. But her eyes drifted over to the Devil. He was placing the folded cotton that held all the soiled ones into the small bag he was carrying. She took the chance to glance down, daring to make sure this wasn’t a sick kink of his. And of course, he wasn’t. How could he. Why would _anyone_ get off by violating her like this…the burn on her cheeks still hurt. Weiss hung her head low as she felt the rope be yanked. She wanted to hide her guilt as they continued their travels.

* * *

His nose stung from the scent of blood that was smeared on his hands. The metallic scent was stuck in his nose to the point that he could taste it on his tongue. It was intertwining with the beads of sweat dripping down to the corners of his lips. The earthy scents, the sun beating down on them, and the endless road they were walking. It was all too familiar. And he wanted it to end. He wanted to _escape_.

Adam looked up at the sky, looking at the clock. The sun was a few hours from setting and he would need to seek shelter and food quickly. Eyes casted over towards the beast he had on a leash. Obedience. Docile. It was behaving well: staying quite and wasn’t causing trouble. And dare say it was starting to show signs of affection. Adam’s eyes narrowed. He was all too aware of the signs, this was nothing new. People ended up falling for him one way or another, be it out of awe or fear, it was all the same. They had that same look, the primitive look of lust. And he knew the beast was keeping its eyes on him, even when it wasn’t looking at him. It was the small things, how when he stopped it would stop right up next to him. It was how it pressed itself up against his back and how it sought out his presence when he rested for the night.

His lips curled down as he set down his pack, recalling their new sleeping arrangements. It had started to warm up to him, far too much to his liking. He was a lone wolf…bull…forever alone and yet misfortune loved throwing obstacles in his way. Hands moved to tie the beast to a tree, keeping its hands above its head and feet barely touching the ground. It wouldn’t run away, it **couldn’t** run away. Not when his eyes always kept an eye on it.

“Stay,” he ordered it after testing the ropes to make sure it didn’t disappear.

It wouldn’t take long, he was efficient when it came to fishing. His partner…his _ex-_ partner had an uncanny obsession with that sort of food. And as such, he found himself learning how to fish with anything he could get his hands on. Yet, as he kept a sharp eye out for anything he could spear with his blade, he kept his eyes on his tied up prisoner. He wasn’t a fool and wouldn’t dare let his guard down. It was a Schnee. Granted, a weak willed one, but still an icy demon that will do anything to get what it wants. And if that _thing_ was freedom, Adam knew that even a caged animal would use any opportunity to escape the moment it knew it could. So his eyes always glanced back at the dangling body, making sure it stayed put, making sure it **knew** he was always watching.

And things were uneventful. Everything played out the same way as it did the previous day. Food was caught and sitting out the cook. Icy blue eyes kept eyes on him as he wringed out the blood from the strips of cloth before setting them out to dry by the fire. It would take all night for them to get dry and the scent of iron would definitely stick on his clothes. And the Schnee hound dogs would surely pick up the trail if they didn’t make it to the safe house in the town soon. Lady luck like throwing everything that could go wrong at him and watching him suffer. Lips turned into a frown as he released the beast from its confinement and they ate, together. Sunset would hit and he’d stomp out the fire. Everything was within their new routine, right down to the way he allowed _it_ to curl up next to him.

Body heat, warmth, it was something that they both needed. Something that he allowed to happen because it felt…natural. Eyes would cast up as he stared at the moon, his hand would reach out to grip his sheathed blade, rubbing the smooth metallic texture with his thumb. It was all too familiar. This scene in front of him. The shattered moon above him illuminated the forest around him, letting him see clearly. And it was only then did he realize that misfortune was snickering in his dismay.

They say that a semblance is a manifestation of one’s personality, their being, who they are. And how it can consume their life, becoming the definition of their being. It was an extension of themselves, of how they view themselves, of how the world sees them. And looking up at the moon, Adam is reminded once again of _what_ he is. His body shuttered as he breathed everything in, accepting what misfortune has laid out for him that night. The sense of familiarity, the sense of _home_ , of security and safety. The sense of something he had missed for a long _long_ time filled himself.

He, for a moment, allowed himself to bask in the warmth, to allow his chest to ache with the pain that he had missed. But that was it. Just a single moment. And with a soft exhale, he breathed out that misery and allowed himself to look in the mirror. Lady luck always liked to torment him like this. Showing him shattered pieces of the past, trapping him in a room full of mirrors and showing him every mistake, he has made. But like the moon reflected the sun’s warm rays, it was but a façade and pales in comparison to the real thing.

The scent of iron filled his nose, intoxicating him like that night long _long_ ago. His hands were coated with blood that he couldn’t scrub off and the weight of everything going wrong was place once again on his shoulders. Eyes drifted down to the beast next to him to capture those icy blue eyes. He knew that look immediately, the way those lips were part ever so slightly and the intensity of those eyes. Adam was ever so familiar with that look, and he always hated it. His stomach wanted to flip itself over, but he couldn’t move his eyes away from its gaze. In his head he was telling himself to move, to stop it, to not let it happen again. Never again. He couldn’t. He had to stop it from repeating once again.

“Sleep,” a voice hissed through their teeth.

It broke Adam’s thoughts and brought him back to the world. That voice managed to break him out of the mirror and stop everything from repeating itself. Eyes widened behind the blindfold as he felt sweat drip from the back of his neck and down to the ground. His breathing was heavy, and it was only then he realized that he had been holding his breath that whole time. Fingers raked against the soil before he pushed himself off the ground. Adam threaded fingers through his hair, pushing the locks back as he rubbed the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and put his head between his knees. Reflections of the past, being shown to him repeatedly in different ways shapes and forms. He hated it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next chapter will contain: underaged sex** , as Weiss is 17 and Adam is 23, and is skippable. If you choose to skip, please note that the next chapter is all just a wet dream and Adam did not do anything with Weiss. Author is just a sick fuck.


	5. the Scent of Iron (Part II) - nsfw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **This chapter will contain: underaged sex** , as Weiss is 17 and Adam is 23, and is skippable. If you choose to skip, please note that it was all a wet dream and Adam did not do anything with Weiss. Author is just a sick fuck.
> 
>  **Sexual Content:** Wet dreams/sexual fantasies, menophilia (menstruation kink), sexual assault, fingering, oral sex (cunnilingus), blood kink, gynophagia ( _urban dictionary definition: person becoming food for someone else as a fantasy_ is the best description).

It was at night when Weiss was able to truly dive deep into her own fantasies and when the taboo thoughts ended up coming to life. The warmth and heat of the body next to hers was drawing her in as she shifted her legs. The small friction, the yearn to touch herself was strong, but the fear of dirtying her hands with blood was all too much of a real fear. It wasn’t so much of blood, but rather what would happen _after_ she would dare masturbate. How would she wash her hands? The Devil surely would know what she had done and that’s what made everything worse. What would he do if she dare touch herself? Would he take advantage of her? Would he…a blush creeped up on her face as she dare even thought he’d do more than what he already has done.

She buried her face against the side, nuzzling closer to him as she tried to bury her thoughts. Their sleeping situation had shifted over the course of days. He had allowed her to sleep right up against him, body warmth she figured, but either way she didn’t mind. Weiss enjoyed the touch of another living person, the heat, the scent, how she could look up at look at the beast of a man she was sleeping with. And look she did as she could see the cut of his jawline, the stubble of his chin as he had yet to shave the past few days. He was mature, a full grown adult, nothing like those baby faced teenagers she saw on a daily basis at Beacon. Even the scent of him was different. The Devil didn’t wear cologne, no knock off cheap brands of musk. His scent was **real**. It held a sting of sweat and dirt on his skin. It was gross, yet, so alluring at the same time.

Weiss closed her eyes, drifting off into a slumber as she dare tried to imagine what it would be like if she had the confidence of her sister. Maybe if she had the same self esteem as her sister, Weiss could swing her leg over and straddle the Devil. She could look him in the eye and grind up against him. The fantasy of an intimidating dominatrix was what Weiss wished she could be. Sexy and charismatic enough to even make the Devil fall and grovel at her feet. She licked her lips, wanting to desperately give it a try. The Devil was **vulnerable** right now, he could be caught off guard for just a split second. She _was_ quick and fast enough that she could easily show him how desperate she wanted to fuck him.

Fuck.

Weiss’s cheeks were burning at this point as she dare even thought of such a word. It was taboo. Forbidden. Weiss closed her eyes and mentally shook her head. No. Yes. Her lower half was pulsing, hot and urging her to touch herself. She dared to hope the beast would be able to smell her arousal like the animal he was. She wanted him to take advantage of her, to dominate her, to fuck her. Her mind wandered for events earlier that day, during the times that he could have taken advantage of her.

“Stay still.”

He had told her, his voice was always what got her started. That was something she knew from the first time he had spoken to her when they first met. Like warm sugar, it was sweet and dark. It made her want to melt in his arms. But when he used that voice that was oh so commanding, it sent a shiver down her spine. He was a man who knew what he wanted and expected only the best. That much she could tell from spending so much from him.

She remembered the way his hand touched her back. It was gentle, he was oh so gentle with her, and let her know exactly where he was standing. He let his hand slip down, feeling her hip and then her thigh as he lifted the edge of the shirt she was wearing. It was one of his, covering her up to her thighs due to how small she was compared to him. And underneath, she wore nothing but the stained panties as they had no replacements. He did not pick up anything for her really, but that was besides the point.

“I’m removing these.”

Weiss kept her forehead against her hand as she leaned against the tree. She pressed her lips together as she felt him hook his fingers around her panties. She hated how he was telling her ever action that he was doing. It wasn’t like this was the first time they had done this, no, but it was such a turn on. Hearing his voice, treating her so gently as he was crouched down behind her. She knew he could see **everything** , and it was embarrassing. The horror of the ugliness of her lower regions. Parts of her wished she were waxed or perhaps had trimmed. It must has looked like a mess, a bloody horror scene with the feeling of stuff dripping down her legs. She felt disgusting. Weiss waited for him to mock her, to tell her how disgusting she was, but he never did.

Instead he rubbed her thighs, soothing her nerves, but nothing could calm her down. She didn’t like being this vulnerable (lies), this exposed (lies), bent over showing her…her…Weiss closed her eyes not even sure of how to describe herself. Yet, she could only gasp as she felt those fingers grip her thighs and felt hot breath against the backs of her legs. The feeling of something warm and wet against the back of her legs made her freeze. Eyes opened wide as she realized what he was doing. Everything tightened, her felt herself clench the cloth stuffed up inside of her as his tongue lapped up the…the…things that were dripping out.

Monster. Disgusting.

“I’m going to devour you now Princess.”

“Ah-Nn-No-mph“ her voice was a garbled mess, trying to form words.

Her knees buckled as she felt his fingers loop around the string of cloth. It was agonizing, feeling it be pulled out so slowly. Disgusting. Horrific. Weiss was mortified when it was out, and she knew what was coming next. In her mind she wanted to turn around, to tell him to stop and that she’d do the next part herself. She **knew** she could keep her dignity, she could _stop_ him at any time. But when she closed her eyes, Weiss heard him shift to his feet. He loomed over her, pressing up against her, pinning her to the tree. His breath was hot against her ear, like that time they first met. She could smell the iron off his lips. It made her recoil, shrink up even more as he had a firm hand on her body. He was keeping her still as she felt the long strip of cloth between her legs. His fingers were pressed up against her…her…

“Nervous already. Weren’t you dreaming of this happening all day?” he whispered against her ear. It was so soft, but loud enough for her to think that the whole world could hear them. She moved her hands, pressing them against her lips as she tried to hide her cries. He had started to push the wadded cloth inside, letting it sink in. Aat this point it would have been done, he could have wiped his hands and got ready to go. But no, she could still feel the strip of cloth brush against her legs. He was doing something different. “You were dreaming of me fingering you, weren’t you Princess.”

Weiss’ eyes widened as she tightened up around the finger shoved inside of her. It burned, it hurt, it felt nothing like the times she had tried to satisfy her own needs. She squirmed, wanting to get away but found that she was only making it worse. Her hips were kept in place by the firm hand holding her still and all she could do was buck her hips backwards.

“How cute, can’t wait to have more stuffed into you,” he purred against her ear as he slowly started to move his finger out. The burn of the leather stuck to the dry walls of her entrance. It was this small pain that started to make her wet. Lips pressed firmly against each other as he slowly fed the cotton inside of her. He was doing this in purpose, she could feel his smirk pressed up against her ear. The Devil was hushing her, telling her that she should relax, that he was giving her what she wanted. And it was all too overwhelming.

However, the worst part was that it was just one finger. She knew that he was teasing her with a second, she felt it brush up against the one pressed up inside of her. It was terrifying. She didn’t know if she could handle two, not when the one inside of her stung so much. He kept his finger inside of her, curling it once in a while to remind her that it was there. And she was shaking, her hips were giving out as her walls were clamp down tight around him. They stayed there like that, him breathing so softly against her ear and whispering sweet nothings. He was praising her, telling her what a _good girl_ she was taking his finger so beautifully. And after a while, she started to move her hips on her own.

He chuckled, amusement was held within his voice. How she was slowly coming undone. Moans and whimpers were slipping out. She whined as she felt drips of wetness slide down her legs. At this point she didn’t know if it was her own slick or if it was blood, but either way it was making things easier. Parts of her were mortified of how easy his finger was slipping out of her, wasn’t she tight moments ago? Eyes were widened as she felt like a teenage slut. She was getting so loose by just one finger. This wasn’t how it was suppose to be. Right? Guys liked it when girls were tight, not loose. Was she…

“Shhh, Is one finger not enough for you? Do you want another one Princess?’ he cooed as he slid his finger out. Leaving her empty and loose. Her hips moved backwards, chasing them to stay inside of her but he stopped her with the grip on her hip. He pressed up another finger against her entrance. It was dry and it was definitely going to hurt if he pressed in. Weiss could feel herself get both scared and excited once again. She felt herself arching back against the gloved hands, feeling the burn again as the tips threatened to sink inside of her. She wasn’t a whore. She wasn’t. She was nice and tight. Right? Right! “Alright Princess.”

And it hurt, but it was a blissful pain. She felt tight again, like a virgin, no, she **was** a virgin. A sense of relief washed over her as she moaned softly. She felt him slowly stretch her out. Feeling the fabric of his pants brushing against her thighs were slowly turning her own. And for a brief moment, she wondered if he would take her virginity. It was a thought that mortified her, to lose her virginity on her period. Horror washed over her as her body trembled. Everything was wrong. He shouldn’t be touching her. He should be disgusted by the blood dripping out of her. She shouldn’t be turned on by all of this. She shouldn’t be putty in his hands.

“Look at you, already ready for another finger,” he teased as he threatened to push another digit in. Her eyes widened as her hips froze. No. She wasn’t ready, she **definitely** wasn’t ready for another digit. She whined, she shook her head as all he did was chuckled. His fingers pulled out before she felt the wetness against her hips. He was teasing her again. Three fingers rubbed her clit gently, an agonizing pain as she didn’t know if she wanted to closer her legs or spread them wider. Her back hunched, she wanted to curl up into a ball. But soon his fingers left her and what was replaced was something bulging and hard. Eyes widened as she felt so small and meek at that moment. He was larger, bigger than her, stronger than her and all she could do was grind against it. “Or maybe you want to get to the main course. Which do you want sweetheart?”

He was alluding to taking her then and there. She knew that it couldn’t fit. Nothing that big could fit in there. But that’s what guys like right? Weiss closed her eyes as she stiffened. She didn’t know what she wanted. No. That wasn’t right. She knew exactly what she wanted, but she didn’t want to lose it like this. His groped her hips, squeezing them and kneading the flesh as he loomed over her. His breath was all she could hear, along with his teeth nipping at the cartilage.

“I need an answer Princess. What do you want? You know I’ll give it to you,” he purred again. A hand reached over, slipping between her legs and stroking her clit so softly. She was dripping at this point and all she wanted was for him to take it. Hips moved against his hands, not sure what to do as he chuckled again. His smirk was forming once again against her neck. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t think she could form the words. And thankfully, he understood. “Alright Princess, if that’s what you want…”

* * *

It was the shift of the body next to her that broke her out of her trance. Her eyes widened in fear as she dared to tilt her head and stare upwards. The Devil had shifted his body, leaning over towards her as if staring at her. No. He **was** staring at her. She could see the outline of his hair, the way his horns pointed. Weiss had seen enough to know that the Devil was looking at her, judging her as she had been caught up in her fantasy.

A rush of embarrassing warmth washed over her body. She felt sweat dripping down her forehead as she felt her legs start to tremble. Her eyes were straining to stay open, to scared to close them yet yearning for him to do something. Parts of her wanted him to push her down, punish her for having such lewd thoughts. Parts of her wanted him to be able to read her mind and indulge her in her sick fantasies. But other parts of her feared what he would do. The other parts of her were scared he would turn his head and act like nothing had happened.

The silence between them made the world feel like it stood still. But as time slowed down, it suddenly picked back up. There wasn’t any warning before the Devil had moved. He was like a force that had just broken free of its chains. Weiss was pushed down onto her back, with the Devil hovering over her once again. But instead of the orange colored sky behind a calm and collected shadow, here was a wild beast panting and sweating in the cool night air. There was a shift in the Devil, he was bearing his teeth, she could feel that hostility of his gaze. She turned her head as she shrunk up, body trembling but she dare didn’t look away. She waited for him to move.

But nothing came. They were once again frozen in time with nothing but their own breaths filling the air. She stared up at him, eyes adjusting to the darkness enough to see the vague outlines of his face. Heart was racing, pounding loud in her ears as she dared to move. Her hand shook as she went to touch the fabric of his shirt, feeling the soft cotton. He was warm, burning hot, and every breath he took she could feel the muscles of his chest move. Things started to fall like dominoes, the way he leaned down how his body pressed down against hers. How her legs spread, latching onto his sides as she was once again reminded how small she was compared to him.

Fingers trailed up, cupping his face, daring to remove the cloth wrapped around his eyes. With the fabric discarded on the ground, the moon illuminated the beast on top of her almost cinematically. His eyes were as intense as she saw that night of blood. The scar of her family company was edged into her mind as she went to touch the tender skin. But he stopped her before she could brush the tips against the marred skin, his hand clasped against hers before guiding it to his lips. He curled her fingers, pressing the knuckles against his mouth, a kiss was planted before.

_My Princess._

He was gentle, moving down to her neck. She felt the softness of his hair, the was his horns brushed against her as he nuzzled up against her. Her hands, unbound by ropes, moved to pull herself closer. Fingers gripped the softness of the cloth as she outstretched her neck. Kisses were littered on her neck as he licked her skin. One of his hands went to grasp her waist, pushing up the shirt she was wearing so he could touch her bare skin. He rubbed her side, calming her as he started to moved down her body. He was backing down, her fingers clawed at his back as she lost her grip.

A blush crept up on her face as her lips curled into a frown. Arms went to hide her face as he moved her body so easily. How easily he lifted her legs over his shoulders, pressing his lips against her inner thighs. She closed her eyes when he teethed the edge of her panties. His fingers looped the sides, pulling them off before they were discarded somewhere on the ground. Weiss bit her lip feeling his breath against her skin, how close he was to her…her…eyes snapped open as she drew her legs back. She lifted her head up enough to look down her body to see that his eyes were still on her, watching her every expression. It was in that moment she realized they had _always_ been watching her. And she was locked, unable to move as she remembered that she was…she was…he was going to…

She could feel his lips curl up into a smirk as she felt something hot and wet _there_. Her lips pulled back, disgusted, mortified, sickened that he was licking that part of her. Her mind told her that this was definitely a kink of his, that he was _enjoying_ this. That this brought him ecstasy, that he was sick and twisted man with a horrible fetish. But his eyes, oh they were trained on her, told her otherwise. She could see how his eyebrows were furrowed, concentrated on her own expressions. Her legs shook, yearning to get away but also press up against his tongue. It was dirty, wrong, disgusting, yet feeling his horns brushing against the backs and side of her legs turned her on. He was staring down at her like she was his prey and it was only then Weiss was reminded that he **was** part animal. He was a _faunus_. And she had to suppress her moans.

_Hush._

Weiss could hear his voice inside her head, telling her to submit to him. She could _feel_ the way his lips curled. He didn’t need to speak, he didn’t need to tell her anything, she already saw it in his eyes. He kept her legs parted, open so that he could suck her tender flesh. She couldn’t stop the way everything was dripping out of her. She felt dirty and disturbed the longer this went on. It was turning more carnivorous, more than just some sexual fantasy. But the way his lips were being smeared with red, how it was staining his cheeks and jawline. How the fingers that dared to stretch her flesh, keeping her sex wide open and dying his fingers that same color red. And how when he raked his fingers against the backs of her thighs, soothing her, trying to make her give in. It was all so wrong, but she couldn’t help but want to dive down deeper.

The dirt against her back stuck to her skin as he lapped at her clit, fingers sinking into her slowly. Her body was trembling, as the roughness of his tongue sent jolts of electricity down her spin. She bit her lip, suppressing screams as she squirmed underneath. But what made it worse, was how easily his fingers slide in and out of her. The blood slipping out of her combined with the natural wetness she was dripping made everything too easy. She felt like he was stretching her, ripping her sex open so slowly, tearing it apart in the most gentle way.

He fucked her deep. Twisting his fingers inside of her when he was fully sheathed. He stroked her insides so gently, enough to make her scream and moan in frustration. The Devil would keep his fingers sheathed inside of her, curling them without moving for minutes. And it made her want to cry. She felt herself squeeze his fingers, grinding her hips to try to get some sort of movement, any friction to satisfy the itch deep inside of her. But at the same time, it hurt so much. This thickness of his fingers tore her apart, he was in far too deep that it made her stomach hurt. She wanted to throw up, she wanted to get away, but she didn’t want him to stop.

He shifted his position, keeping his fingers buried deep inside of her. Twisting them slowly before rocking them in and out. His had moved to lean over her once more, his face smeared with blood. He smelt like iron, a disgusting scent of metal, and it made her recoil. His lighting blue eyes were reflecting the moon light, making them oh so captivating. The Devil leaned down, pressing his blood stained lips against her cheek and leaned down against her ear.

* * *

**“Sleep.”**

A voice hissed through their teeth as she was once again pulled out of her trance. Her eyes widened once again as she realized that he had not moved from when he pushed her over. Sweat was now dripping off his face and onto hers, causing her to flinch as she realized how her hands were still bound together. Her heart raced as embarrassment made her retract into a ball. She was shook by the sound of his voice – right, it was his voice. She almost didn’t recognize it from the sudden outburst and tone of it. Shivers ran down her spine as he finally move off of her. She turned away from him, rolling onto her side and curling up as she couldn’t look at him anymore. She wanted to sleep. She needed to sleep. Sleep. He told her to sleep. She wanted to forget her sick fantasies. She just wanted to sleep.


End file.
